Evel Knievel

Evel Knievel,
you thrill to be evil

All these devils, I'll be plural about it:

motley in multihued
wind suits, cannonballing
from stroboscopic space shuttles
and imploding B-52s

: they are storms to kill someone!

They want to chew brains
Their parachutes burst

You weep to be evil, Evel
You have no guts; you don't dare
You wrench Herculean
from the Earth's core to be O U T , at large